


Omnis

by xioxi



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Blood and Injury, Crying, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-neutral Reader, Knifeplay, M/M, Other, Pain, Spoilers, Threats, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26744725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xioxi/pseuds/xioxi
Summary: Levi beats the shit out of you like he beat up Eren in season one.
Relationships: Levi & Reader, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin) & Reader, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)/Reader, Levi/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68
Collections: Levi x Reader One-Shots





	Omnis

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags.
> 
> Also, this isn't safe/consensual play or anything like that. Keep it in mind before reading.

[song inspo: Ghostemane x Parvo - Omnis](https://youtu.be/2upYnFZCXVs)

* * *

Damn.

You supposed barging into Eldian territory uninvited and without a heads up of some sort would be a bad idea. The people did get suspicious the more you walked around, sure. Yes, sneaking in with the Survey Corps in their carts was a genius plan to get you inside. But, honestly - did they have to smack you over the head with a rock? That's simply barbaric.

You had heard the rumors about them being devils and all that, but you're the same race in the midst of a race war. Shouldn't they be a bit more forgiving about the whole ordeal? Not to mention, the trip here was long. Sneaking into the ship, sneaking by the newly turned titans, sneaking by the Survey Corps scouts - you probably would have been better off staying home and staying a thief or something. Sure, the punishment would have been devastating, but it's not like anyone would have caught you anyway! You're god-tier.

Except this once.

You cursed in your mind, your eyes still adjusting to the light. You get it. The bread wasn't yours and taking it from that farmer was a bad idea. He could have just asked you to return it, though. You barely took a bite! You were exhausted, hungry, and thirsty - these walled up Eldians aren't giving anybody a break. But by far, you swear, the worst of it all was precisely that. They grew suspicious because you stole some bread. You got this far and that is how your cover is blown, seriously?

"Well, you literally don't exist," a voice grazes your ears. It sounded... soulless. Not empty or anything like that, just stuck in a permanent state of annoyance. As if your own existence only mildly inconvenienced whomever just spoke, yanking him from his day-to-day duties and right into a trap. “Hangi-san checked the records and you were never born,” the voice continued, as if a scolding mother was talking to you in a narcissistic tone, “have no job, live nowhere, and married nobody.”

The room - or rather, cell - started becoming more clear as a pounding ache worked its way down from your head slowly to the rest of your body. The journey took its toll on your muscles. The awareness of shackles on your wrists binding your arms behind your back to a pole of sorts as you kneeled on the ground eventually became more apparent; the seconds ticked, your gaze catching the shorty leaning on a wall outside, the metal bars giving you an illusion of temporary safety.

You scuffed.

“Honestly. Are you living a life of crime, right here in the city,” he continued, “or is it something more?” The man’s eyes shot open, looking tired, yet determined nonetheless. “The material on your clothes is foreign,” he unlocked the door to your now ruined sanctuary, closed it behind him, and locked it right back up. “It’s as if you aren’t from inside of the walls, brat.”

Shit.

“So, what will it be?” he steps closer, an unfamiliar fear rising in your chest. “You either open that filthy fucking mouth of yours and talk,” the man put his body weight to rest on his left leg as he let his right rise up in the air, his boot now at eye level with your face, “or I fucking open it myself.”

The rage built up inside of you. Sure, you didn’t come here to fight. You’d heard stories ever since you were a kid - stories about the men in the walls, outcast by society because of the changes they can go through. However, the absolute ego spilling out of the man in front of you made you angry. Very angry. You weren’t going to give in just yet - your pride would not allow it.

“I don’t have to tell you shit-,” the front of his boot made swift contact with your lips. For a split second, it felt as if you were kissing it, but clearly, it digging into your mouth and pushing your head to collide with the pole behind you indicated you gave him the wrong answer just then. It didn’t stay there for long. Instead, the shorty ripped it out of your bite and made contact with the left side of your head, kicking it to the right. You cried out in pain, and in a desperate attempt to stay alive, blurted out: “Are you fond of giving people concussions or something?”

“To traitorous pigs like you?” he pondered, kicking the air out of your lungs. If you’ve never had that happen to you, the first time it does, you feel like you’re dying. In the fifteen seconds it takes for you to regain your breath, your mind convinces itself an eternity is passing. However, you’ve always been prone to conflict, so you stayed calm, waiting for oxygen to fill your lungs once again. The asshole was working his kicks to your sides now, not giving your body time to recover. “Maybe I am.”

The foul taste of the captain’s underboot had just started lingering on your tongue. Instead of spitting it out on the floor, you figured you’ve had enough of the beating, so you spat right in the fucker’s face. He stepped back for a second, disturbed by your manners, yet after sighing in disgust and wiping his face with a handkerchief he went right back to you. The boot of the man’s leg forcefully spread your legs and he kneeled right on your crotch, slowly pressing his body weight onto it.

“Stop! Why, you-,” you couldn’t finish your sentence, a sharp inhale and a yelp making their way in and out past your lips cutting it in half. All of a sudden, the pressure between your legs stopped increasing and stayed constant, as he reached next to his ODM gear and pulled out a dagger from its sheath.

You knew you could take a beating, but as soon as a considerable amount of blood was drawn, you’d retreat. Hometown taught you that. You didn’t do weapons. You didn’t do knives.

With a condescending “tsk”, he rested his left arm onto the wall behind you and placed the knife on your throat. It was subtle, at first, but with every millisecond passing, the pressure became stronger. He’d been digging it into your skin. He was going to slit your throat. You were sure of it.

Unsure of how fast exactly your heart was beating and terrified for your life, you opened your mouth to start talking, but the captain put his thumb over it, still holding the knife.

“Now, let’s start this again, little shit,” he muttered. As if it’s the only weapon he’s ever known, masterfully he dragged the tip of the knife up your under-chin, making you look up, exposing your neck even further. “You either open that filthy fucking mouth of yours and talk,” he repeated himself, eyeing you like prey caught in a cage. You swear you noticed his eyes glimmer for a second before turning blood-fucking-red: “...or I fucking slit your throat open - the way I slit that damned titan’s nape just yesterday.” His left hand suddenly decided to grab some of your hair and yank it forward, giving you a scare. That you’d almost stab yourself onto the knife by accident. That you’d be the one making yourself bleed. “Got that, cunt?”

You did. But also, you thought he was bluffing. After all, if he killed you, he couldn’t get any information out of you, now could he?

"First of all, you're full of shit! Second of all, is this how you treat all your guests?" Your resistance didn't last long, words stolen from his kneeing you right in the stomach. Your eyes wide open, the man standing up and kicking the everloving shit out of your sides again, the only thing you could think about was home. Not Marley, not the walls - the entire fucking world right at your feet. As he pushed your head down to straddle your back, it was all you could think of. A possibility of your nation retaking the world once again, living in peace with the other people, creatures, plants, landscapes… A dream to be proud of. 

"I realized we haven't done our introductions just yet," he pulled your hair, forcing the back of your head to rest against his left thigh. "I'm Captain motherfucking Levi," he placed the tip of the knife to the right side of your neck, as if threatening to stab right through it, "...and I always get what I fucking want."

You're sure he drew blood. It was fairly close to your artery, but since it wasn't gushing out, you knew your life was still safe. For now, ar least. "So, you can either tell me your name and why you are here," he leaned down a bit and pulled your head farther back, forcing you to look up at him, "...or I'll be the last face you'll ever see." The knife found its way to your throat again. "Got that, brat?"

God damn it. You started crying. Great.

It wasn't even him hitting a nerve or anything like that. It's just, well, you thought you'd be welcomed here. It sounded like a paradise at first, if you read between the lines in all the deceitful history books. Besides, the trip has left you spent! What else would you have done in that situation? What else would anyone have done?

The truth is, he wasn't well off either. Maybe he would have gone softer on you if the mood had been right, but it has been so long since the Survey Corps made any actual progress during their missions. They'd hit the sea and that was it. All this new information and nothing to do with it. He yearned for more, for freedom. True and honest liberation of the people. Yet no matter what happened, every step seemed to be taken backwards. No, wait. They were running in circles. So, when an opportunity to get somewhere finally arose, he didn't even consider the sudden intruder within the walls to be an ally or one of his own. He just… accepted them as a traitor. An enemy. Maybe it was wishful thinking. Who knows.

No matter, because your tears clearly tugged on his heartstrings for whatever reason. You made him remember something… or rather someone. For a moment in time, he seemed shocked, then in no less than a heartbeat, you quickly and suddenly experienced the full extent of Captain Levi's rage.

"You dare cry? After what you've done to our people?" he has already stepped away from you and started kicking you in all places. The knife somehow ended up on the other side of the room, the dragging of the steel experienced in slow motion according to your ears. As you took the hits, coughing up blood and nearly throwing up after a quite brutal kick to your underarm, it was all you could focus on. The reflection of the candle in the metal. The way the handle was masterfully crafted. You felt tired. Sleepy. You were going to pass out, surely - but the sudden shocks of pain jolting through your body with every swing wouldn't let you do it just yet.

Your mind was back in that one place where no one could ever hurt you. With flowers on the side of the road and a river following it, birds singing to the tune of the soft, summer wind. Raindrops falling from the sky right before noon, glistering; the sunshine beams breaking over and over into beautiful patterns down on the grass. Your safe place. Your home. All reflected in the glossy finish from that dagger on the dirty floor.

Levi did come to his senses soon after, but it was much too late. If he continued going for you at this point, he probably would have actually killed you. "Just...forget it. I'll be back for you." He turned on his heel, unsatisfied with his presentation of power as a half-assed, wretched admission of guilt slowly grew inside of his stomach. Something felt wrong about this. His methods didn't feel right anymore.

Your sobs became quieter, as if someone singing a lullaby drifted off to sleep in the midst of their performance. "I guess… you are the devils," you murmured. You wanted to scream, but your voice wouldn't let you. "I never… should have… come here."

"I’m not arguing with a filthy Marley resident,” he barked.

“I’m Eldian,” was the last thing you managed to spit out before embracing the slumber one more time. Well, nearly the last thing: “...dumb cunt.”

You swore you saw him stop and look back at you. You swore you saw a look of panic in his eyes.


End file.
